In the early morning, as usual, Wade woke up just as dawn began to break. The first thing he did was open the window, and only then did he go to wash up.
By the ti Wade returned to his room, there were already two or three letters dropped onto his desk. His owl, Eva, was standing on the nearby perch and drinking water with her head down.
"Mr. Wade Grey," Dobby said cheerfully, standing in the middle of the room holding a round tray. "Dobby heard Mr. Wade Grey woke up, so Dobby brought honey water!"
"Thank you, Dobby," Wade said as he accepted the honey water, and casually complinted, "Nice scarf."
Dobby tugged proudly at the scarf tied around his neck—it had a cute little yellow bear on it. Beaming, he said, "Madam Grey let Dobby choose it himself, and Dobby thinks it's just wonderful!"
Other house-elves weren't allowed to own clothing, but in the Grey household, Dobby was treated like a walking mannequin by Wade's mother, Fiona.
All the various children's outfits that young Wade had firmly refused to wear were now being bought back by Fiona for Dobby—so he could change into a new outfit every day.
Dobby's sense of fashion perfectly matched Fiona's: he adored anything bright, colorful, and flamboyant—except when it ca to socks, which he insisted must always be mismatched.
After drinking the honey water, Wade went into the wardrobe-space to run a few laps and get his body moving. Then he returned to his desk to start dealing with the mail.
By this ti, several more parcels had appeared on the table. A large eagle owl had temporarily taken over Eva's perch and was devouring her tray of owl food in large gulps.
Eva was both angry and intimidated, and was hunched in the corner with ruffled feathers. When she saw her master enter, she imdiately spread her wings and gave a threatening screech, trying to drive the eagle owl off her throne.
The eagle owl ignored her completely, and only glanced cautiously at Wade, then quickly gobbling up the remaining food.
"Be generous, good girl," Wade said as he gently patted Eva's head. He grabbed two handfuls of owl food for her, another two for the eagle owl, and then filled an entire dish to the brim and placed it on the windowsill—just in case more owls showed up.
The parcel from the eagle owl ca from Marchionne, as usual containing various alchemical ingredients, potion materials, and financial reports.
Sotis, when Marchionne traveled to other countries for business, he'd pick up so interesting trinkets and send them to Wade as gifts.
Without the all-powerful Marchionne, Wade would have had to go through a lot more trouble to get his hands on these materials.
For example, the African tree snake skin needed to brew Polyjuice Potion was essentially a regulated magical ingredient in the wizarding world—extrely expensive and hard to acquire.
Thanks to Marchionne's steady supply of ingredients, Wade could keep Polyjuice stocked as a regular-use potion and even provide an unlimited supply for Mabel.
Wade wrote a reply, then moved on to a letter from Delaine.
As a part of the Alliance, Delaine clearly could have used communication beans, but he always preferred to write letters—perhaps because it helped him organize his thoughts more clearly during the process.
Delaine never talked about personal matters. In his letters, he would write about the recent activities of the Alliance. Although Wade could soon see about those in the Mirror Network news, Delaine's accounts were naturally more thorough and included so non-public information.
He would also discuss magic and video editing techniques, but most of all, he wrote about ideological topics.
For example: the nature and aning of war, why the idea of wizard supremacy is opposed by many wizards—even pure-bloods—and the various pros and cons of the recent changes in the Alliance…
Whenever Wade corresponded with him, he always felt an increasing sense of excitent—tinged with a faint shiver of unease—as if every word he wrote might one day beco the spark that ignites the stagnant, decaying, and closed-off wizarding world.
To prevent these letters from one day becoming bullets fired back at him, Wade signed all his replies with an alias—Brown—and also altered his usual handwriting, so no one familiar could recognize it.
Next ca letters from Gringotts, Michael and Theo's correspondence, a reply from Professor Murray to a question Wade had asked, and then a letter from St. Mungo's…
Fortunately, thanks to magic, the quill could write automatically. Otherwise, Wade suspected that if he had to handle this much correspondence by hand every day, he would soon develop a callus the size of a pea on his fingers.
Wade opened the letter from St. Mungo's.
[Dear Mr. Wade Grey,
Greetings!
We are very pleased to inform you that after a period of dedicated treatnt and care, your uncle, Mr. Cornelius Dwan, has shown significant improvent and is steadily recovering. His physical condition is now close to eting discharge standards.
If all goes well, Mr. Dwan is expected to be discharged in three days. After discharge, he will only need to take dication regularly and follow simple daily care routines to gradually return to a normal standard of living.
If you have any questions about Mr. Dwan's condition or need any further information, please don't hesitate to contact us. I will be happy to provide tily support and assistance.
Wishing you and your family good health and happiness!
Healer: Mary Nunes ]
As Wade finished reading the letter, the diligent quill imdiately leapt into action and began scribbling line after line:
[Dear Mary,
Thank you for your attentive care of Uncle Dwan. It has been a great comfort to our entire family… ]
Of course, Wade didn't actually have an uncle nad Cornelius Dwan. This man was a scientist his father had found for him—terminally ill and abandoned by even his own family.
Wade had asked Lupin to have the man sent to St. Mungo's for treatnt.
Ordinarily, St. Mungo's wouldn't accept Muggle patients—unless they had suffered severe magical injury. But in a world where every profit-driven institution must eventually bow to money, exceptions can be made.
To ensure the Muggle man was admitted, Lupin had cast a mild curse on him—just enough to et the minimum requirent for magical treatnt.
Now that the man was about to be discharged, Lupin would need to handle the formalities, and Wade would finally et this supposedly highly capable scientist in person.
Naturally, he wasn't worried the man would refuse his invitation—any ordinary person who had seen magic firsthand could hardly resist the allure of such a mysterious world.
Especially not soone who had just experienced the tornt of severe illness—that feeling of watching one's body gradually lose control, step by step toward death—no one would want to go through that again.
For wizards, while true immortality is extrely difficult to achieve, there are indeed so ways to extend one's lifespan. And even when death eventually cos, various magical potions can make the process far more dignified and comfortable than that of a Muggle elder.
Wade wrote a reply to Lupin, then glanced over the remaining letters.
Invitations to unknown events, banquet invitations from unknown wizards, people seeking advice on alchemy, others questioning his alchemical thods, requests for donations to certain organizations or gifts of magical dolls, love letters from people boldly proclaiming their desire to date him, and journalists requesting exclusive interviews…
Wade mostly just looked at the signatures on the envelopes, then tossed the letters aside. He grabbed Cube and had it help draft the replies while he went downstairs for breakfast.
Today's breakfast was French-style: Earl Grey tea with a hint of bergamot, warm milk, whole wheat bread with nut spread, thin crepes, boiled eggs, and a platter of assorted fruits.
His mother was spreading nut butter on so bread. When she saw Wade sit down at the table, she casually handed the bread to him and asked, "Aren't you going to watch the Quidditch World Cup? It's all over the news lately."
Of course, Fiona was referring to the wizarding news on the Streaming Mirror.
"Not right now," Wade replied. "The early matches aren't that exciting—things only get interesting during the qualifiers."
His dad, Fred, took a sip of coffee and said, "I rember you said yesterday you were heading out today."
"Yeah, I'm just going to visit a friend," Wade said. "It's Mabel—she's been troubled by the Obscurus for a long ti. Professor Dumbledore invited a specialist to see if they can help her."
"Can the Obscurus be cured?" Fred asked in surprise.
"They're still experinting. We're hopeful," Wade said.
The Greys exchanged a glance but didn't press further.
"We're hopeful…" — it didn't sound particularly optimistic, but no one said that out loud, as if putting it into words might make it real.
"It'll go well," Fiona said. "God always looks after the kind-hearted. Oh, when is soone coming to pick you up?"
"No one's coming, Mom. I'm going by myself this ti." Wade noticed the worry flash across his parents' faces and smiled, "I'm already fourteen, and I've learned Apparition. I'm just going to Hogsade—it's nothing dangerous."
Besides, he'd be carrying his wardrobe space with him, and inside was Mikael. Unless he ran into soone on the level of Grindelwald, it would be hard for anyone to hold him down.
Fred was silent for a mont but didn't object. He simply said, "Let us know when you arrive. Don't make your mother and worry."
"I will, Dad," Wade replied.
The Grey residence didn't have Anti-Apparition enchantnts, because wizards could only Apparate to places they had already been. As long as they hadn't hosted any dangerous or unfamiliar wizards in their ho, it was safer than the outside world.
And now, they also had Dobby in the house.
After hiring Dobby, Wade had officially reported it to the Ministry of Magic. As a result, when magic was used in his ho, the Departnt for the Prohibition of Improper Use of Magic couldn't tell whether it was Wade, Dobby, or the occasional visiting Moody who cast the spell.
This gave Wade much more freedom at ho.
After breakfast, Wade packed everything he needed, turned on the spot, and instantly vanished from the room.
In the blink of an eye, Wade appeared in a quiet alleyway in Hogsade, right next to the Three Broomsticks pub. He could hear the pleasant sound of music drifting out from inside.
He pressed his communication bean to let his parents know he'd arrived safely. After waiting a little while, he saw two people Apparate directly onto the street in front of the Three Broomsticks, each carrying a suitcase.
The two stood in place and glanced around.
Wade stepped out from the alley and said with a smile, "Good morning, Mr. Scamander, Steven."
Scamander nodded with a smile. "Good morning, Wade."
"Oh, Wade!" Steven broke into a cheerful grin. "Have you been waiting long?"
"No, I just got here too," Wade said. "Follow —Remus lives this way."
"Oh, then will I get to et Sirius Black too?" Steven asked excitedly. "I read about the four of them in the papers two years ago—I've been wanting to et him ever since!"
"Unfortunately, Sirius is away on so business and hasn't been back for a few days," Wade replied.
As expected, Steven looked visibly disappointed and even his eyebrows drooped.
Scamander looked at his assistant's childlike expression and smiled indulgently.
They quickly arrived at Lupin's ho. Both Lupin and Dumbledore were present, and even Madam Pomfrey was there.
Mabel had, of course, been waiting for this day. She clutched the hem of her shirt tightly and stared nervously at the elderly man who seed capable of deciding her fate. The dark mist surrounding her was nearly bursting out of her.
"Relax, child," Scamander bent down and said gently, "We need to take a look at your condition first so we can choose the safest thod for treatnt. I won't hurt you, I promise. Will you trust ?"
Mabel bit her lip and looked at Dumbledore, Lupin, and then at Wade. After a mont, she nodded, and the dark mist around her shrank back.
"Good girl."
Scamander smiled, then entered the inner room with Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore, bringing Mabel along to assess the Obscurus.
"Please have a seat, Steven. Would you like sothing to drink? Wade, would you like so hot chocolate?" Lupin offered as he waved his wand, levitating pastries and drinks neatly onto the table.
"If the Obscurus can really be cured, it would be a first in the wizarding world," Steven said anxiously. "But I'm worried it won't go smoothly."
After all, the last little girl who underwent an "Obscurus separation procedure" had died in the end.
"If those three in there can't do it, then no one in the world can," Lupin said, appearing calm. "So all we can do is trust them—and wait."
Wade watched as Lupin spoke while pouring milk, ant for coffee, into a glass of carrot juice. That told him Lupin wasn't nearly as calm as he looked.
Wade held his drink but didn't take a sip. After a mont of thought, he asked, "Would using Felix Felicis improve the chances of success?"
"No, it wouldn't," Steven sighed. "I asked Mr. Scamander the sa question. If he needed it, I could get a bottle of Felix Felicis. Of course, Mr. Scamander has his own sources as well."
"But Mr. Scamander said Felix Felicis doesn't just bring good luck—it also makes people arrogant and reckless."
"Separating an Obscurus requires extre precision, discipline, and ticulous attention to detail. Any emotional disturbance could have massive consequences."
"So he'd rather not rely on magically borrowed luck—he wants to ensure his mind stays perfectly clear."
"And one more thing, Wade," Lupin added, "Felix Felicis helps people make the right decisions—but not necessarily the ones they want."
"When facing an Obscurus, what if the 'right' decision is to let the creature die along with the host? Then the magic would drive things in that direction."
"So don't rely on that potion, Wade. Use it only when it's absolutely necessary."
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